Not everyone is born a LadySometimes they just turn into one
by Kaila Azroth
Summary: Scapegrace gets the wrong body. Thrasher doesn't like his own and the two of them are working hard to fight the evils of every women's monthly nightmare, together, forever and not so much happily united...well Scapegrace isn't. Rating is Mature though everyone should know by now how I write these M stories. Mainly for Fun and Disclaimers all go to the Author and not me. :3
1. Chapter 1

For everyone's information I started writing this before reading book 8 of the Skulduggery Pleasant and so don't go firing me on how wrong this whole scenario this plot bunny is - I was going out here on a limb and so since it's too much trouble revising everything I wrote - way too lazy - I'm plowing through with this. It isn't meant to be taken seriously but since reading Dead Men I have my inspiration back and know what to do with this fic, most of all I'm just ranting here so feel free to start reading the story if you wish - there isn't anything else I'm going to say save for review my fic with your criticism with much love and deliberate fanfare.

Kaila Azroth.

It was another typical day where Thrasher was trying to please his master, however having become an eye-sore made him very sad. The beatings he would get for just being in the same room as his master left him with bruises on his face. And it wasn't the bruises that hurt his feelings of obedience - it was the feelings that spurred those actions towards him. Ever since that Nye creature transferred their brains Thrasher has had a life of more misery than ever! Whenever he tried to speak Master Scapegrace would hurl the nearest thing to him at his head, either that or he'd use that voice of his to yell him out of the same room.

Thrasher knew he was very jealous of his body and he himself felt very guilty for receiving such an admirable body in place of master's curvaceous body of flesh. A blush stained his high cheekbones and he quickly went back to the dishes. It wouldn't do for him to slack off if master Scapegrace found out - but still, Thrasher wished he could see the beauty his master had within his grasp.

A sudden mental image invaded his mind of master touching her breasts. It wouldn't be the first time he'd catch himself from imaging his master like this and it wouldn't be the last.

"THRASHER! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!"

In all honestly Thrasher would have loved to blame the broken piece of plate for the act of being caught unawares in surprise and not in a manner where he was caught red-handed in an act of crime.

"THRASHER!"

He dropped everything and ran upstairs to the shabby room they owned. When he got there with his new body he nearly slammed into the doorway in utter shock at the display standing before him. Though his body did slump heavily on the door frame instead, holding onto it for life. Even though master was still male on the inside the fact that he was inhabiting a body that stood naked as a babe had Thrasher seeing stars.

That is until Scapegrace spoke.

"Thrasher help me you idiot! I'm dying!" he yelled in a panic.

And it was true - past all the curves and luscious soft looking skin and long naked legs - Thrasher could see a trail of incessant blood trickling down like no tomorrow. Was this a leakage that master was going through? Did he have an internal bleeding that needed a doctor immediately?

No. No it wasn't, it was a lady's time of the month and Thrasher remembered the vivid images he had of screaming little sisters and angry beating mothers.

This explained everything. For the past few days the Supreme Killer has had been fluctuating various degrees of stress to random moments of kindness that scared Thrasher to bits - he couldn't honestly keep up with his master's actions as well as keep his head above water, for everything he did and didn't do warranted a death sentence issued by Scapegrace and a whizzing mug that smashed his head bloody.

"Master, I think you're having your period."

Scapegrace stopped shouting and shut down immediately. His pretty green eyes dilated in shock and his perfectly red lips were slack with utter fear. Suddenly tears wobbled out of his throat at the prospect of going through something no man should and he crumpled onto the ground.

He didn't know why he deserved this cruel punishment. All he did was take a shower and plan for World Domination - with a side lashing to Thrasher - he was essentially a good man that needed recognition of his superb status and ice-cream. Ice-cream sounded way too lovely right now, even a peach of kisses warmed his insides.

Scapegrace gave out a cry so loud that it had Thrasher getting up from the doorway and rushing over to his master, thinking he was in pain.

The contact would have usually resulted in Thrasher's bashing but Scapegrace was far too gone in the system. He grasped the collar of Thrasher and, through a sniveling nose and a cute face, he cried tears of utter mortification into Thrasher's hard, comforting chest.

"I'm a woman!" he cried.

Thrasher could only hold his master in his strong arms as he wisely shut up - past experiences showed that answering women PMSing was just a pretty facade of a death sentence, only this involved a distraught man in a woman's body. If anything it would be worse. And it had been - if he remembered correctly - yesterday a knife was lodged over his head when he woke up.

Scapegrace looked up in tears at Thrasher's handsome face full of worry for his master, which brought more tears to Scapegrace. His chiseled features, the clear stubble that held attraction in its very depths. And the way that hair flopped lazily but sexily across the face that was meant to be his - it threw him into another throe of disparity!

"You're a man!" he exclaimed obviously.

Thrasher only nodded as he hugged Scapegrace closer to his chest, he didn't like it but the face his master was showing him at the moment was the most adorable of expressions - coupled with that tempting body of his - was utterly horrifyingly fascinating. However he didn't want to die just yet. Again.

"I'm going through something no man should be going through Thrasher - I'm experiencing something even death cannot defy - I'm having a period! A period, Thrasher, the nightmare of any man worth his while whereas here I am, naked in your arms, bleeding out of my nether-regions and thinking about ice-cream and World-domination. Do you know how horrifying this all is Thrasher? Can you actually grasp it?" he wailed once more before tucking his face into Thrasher and cried for all his worth.

Thrasher did grasp it, very thoroughly, that his master was in the throes of womanhood and if he didn't do something now to stop the bleeding then master Scapegrace will be left to bleed blood more than he already was doing on his trousers.

Determined to put his master to rest he clasped Scapegrace's soft shoulders and used his other hand to gently tip Scapegrace's heart-shaped face up to him. Thrasher bit his lips at the sight of tears pouring down from those big auburn eyes of his master.

It would be so much easier to identify his master as a woman, it'd save the trouble for his mind to finally refer him as a woman. Still, it'd be safe not to say that verbally, he really didn't want to die after all.

"Master, I'll make the bleeding stop so you won't have to worry, okay?" he said in a calm and soft voice.

With a new body like this Thrasher's voice was much deeper in tone and a lilt of huskiness permeated that rich voice. Though it felt awkward voicing out his thoughts he knew that getting used to this was unavoidable, in essence it did the job in capturing his master's attention.

"R-really? You'll make the pain go away Thrasher?" she asked innocently.

Her eyes sparkled in wonder, like Thrasher had just told her that she was Supreme Killer and world domination was at her hands.

Thrasher fought back the blush and gulped down, focusing on the plan to stop the bleeding. He nods his head confirming his plan - however he still knew that the bleeding wouldn't stop until three days to a week.

But Thrasher couldn't say that yet - he'd surly put her in more strife if she found out.

"Yes, so wait here until I come back." he picked her up and placed her on the bed, the sheets were stained immediately but he had to ignore that now.

"Wait, you're leaving me? Thrasher what in the world are leaving me here for! I demand you stay here with me an stop the bleeding yourself at this instant!" she said angrily.

The top was blown off and Thrasher, by the door frame, did the mistake of looking back. Scapegrace was leaning over the bed on both her hands as she laid her long legs straight out on the rumpled bed. She was naked and beautiful - her breasts hanging low, like real breasts should, and her look of anger made the whole creamy luscious imagery that much more tantalizing. And her hair, that soft silk of sin milked her face in an array of messy wanton strands demanding Thrasher to put them in their place and arrange them the way he wanted them to be. They called out for his touch - the body, the pink nubs on her breasts, and even those legs.

It didn't matter if the stench of blood was in the air or that Scapegrace was angry at him; if Thrasher was any less of a man that he seemed to be he'd be doing the unthinkable and have his hands all over her. But Thrasher wasn't like that, he loved his master too much to put his selfish needs first - Scapegrace was the one who saved him from his old life and put him where he is now. He didn't care for the threats and insults that his master threw him because - even through it all - he knew that all the things he came to know now would have never happened without his master's fateful intervention. Scapegrace saved him from a life of normality and introduced him to a world of magic and wonder - a world where Supreme Killer Vaurien Scapegrace was the ruler of that world.

Scapegrace saw Thrasher's eyes fight something within himself when he looked at him the way he did. At first those eyes showed intense hunger - a hunger that made him think that Thrasher was looking at him like food and not as his master - and that made him more angrier at his slave. However that look transformed steadily into one of concern, then that scorn of an emotion that riled Scapegrace even more gravitated into one of iron determination - like he decided on something and finally came to a proper decision.

Scapegrace didn't even bother telling Thrasher that he could read his emotions clearly by those expressive eyes of his - he was already annoyed as it was by the rush of emotion his slave dared show him, rather than answer him like he demanded.

However he didn't have to wait for another second because Thrasher was looking back at him, cutting himself off from that hazy off-look he had going on for him, and spoke directly to him with authority laced into his voice.

"Master, I will be back with the pads and I'll help you plug it up, right now you're going to be feeling cramps - they're like daggers that someone is jabbing up between your legs - yeah that one sir, sorry sir."

Scapegrace could only hold onto his words - but like an unwanted impromptu - daggers felt him up immediately and he fell back onto the bed in agony, he let out a moan as he drew his legs up to his chest.

Thrasher saw the agony through all the womanly vision and it dampened his mood to his usual self. Quickly going over to his master he clutched her shoulder's and told her in a reassuring voice.

"Don't worry - if you keep moving you'll be able to find a spot that will let you stop the pain for a moment. It won't go away and will come back spontaneously so for now rest easy okay?" Thrasher says concern evident and sincere.

Scapegrace groaned instead, the pain too much that it had him whimpering. Thrasher didn't even dare to stay put - Scapegrace was too much in pain and being here wasn't putting a damper on Scapegrace's pain.

He ran out of that room with a detached feeling of desperation and the ever-rising worry that dared climb to his throat, and start choking his vocal cords, leaving him voiceless as he started the stairs downwards. In his rush he made sure to lock the front door - the apartment they were staying at was shady and now that Scapegrace was a woman he wanted nothing more than to ensure her safety from the likely thugs that stored around this place like the damned pests they are. He sent a glare at one shady bald man who stood too close for Thrasher's comfort. He was agitated beyond belief and this sniveling, grinning toothed man was not helping matters at all.

Irrational thoughts invaded his mind, and Thrasher couldn't be put to blame for his actions. And he simply didn't care. Taking one step forward he picked the smaller hunched man by the neck and slammed him on the worn out wall that had ugly stains of something on it. The paint peeled off by the harsh impact the bald man did to it and he was left gasping. The glare Thrasher held for the man was harsh and he could feel his heart beat hard at the snarl the bigger man held just for him.

"If I don't see you guarding this door from those other scumbags - I'll be sure to fuck you up personally." he seethed and punched the wall to further make his threat.

It wasn't needed but it helped matters quickly, and besides, it put Thrasher's mood in a lighter mode - if only slightly.

He let go and the scumbag slumped heavily to the ground, gasping for much needed air. Not even wasting any more time he jumped over the rail and ran down the stairs, passing by hookers and eyesores all around him.

There was a shop around the corner of the street that they were on. It was a shabby one, but Thrasher couldn't expect any less from the state of the town they were in. Racing down the street he bypassed onlookers who madly went out of his way, he was a mountain of a man and his build would surely have them in the ER. Though the amount of looks he gained from the flustered women were enough to burn a hole in his shirt, Thrasher ignored it in favour of the task at hand - getting the pads for Master Scapegrace, right now.

Having to cross the busy cars he reached his destination and pulled open the shop's door. Looking inside he saw a man with a gun and people cowering on the floor. He was at the till and at the sound of the door opening he flicked his gun to Thrasher's direction.

"Get down, now! And close the door!" shouted the burglar.

Thrasher blinked once and weighed his options, which was more important - heeding a complete stranger's command or saving his Master's life from pain.

The decision was obvious.

He dropped to the floor and closed the door behind him. The burglar still held a glare at his direction but otherwise went back to grabbing the stash of money from the till.

Thrasher looked at his side and debated on getting the magazine stand and smashing it on the burglar's head. Looking over the hostages he made eye contact with one young fella. The young boy looked at him and the magazine and understood the hand motions Thrasher was doing. He motioned the boy to tell those around him what he was about to do and the little boy nodded his head bravely. Thrasher subtly looked over the counter to where the burglar stood and waited for the others to start making a noise.

They were scared shitless but seeing the handsome man looking determinedly at the thief, they all drew courage from his brave face of justice and - as one - all screamed out very suddenly, the noise making the burglar jump 5 feet high up the ground and accidentally pull the trigger. The shot rang out loudly and the bullet pierced the glass door above Thrasher's head. Immediately Thrasher took hold of the magazine stand and threw it at the burglar's head, racing right after it smashed the burglar's face, and jumped over the counter. The hostages were screaming for real by the loud bullet shot and all scrambled away from the strong man who was now pounding the thief into oblivion.

Thrasher knocked him out and clicked open the gun - unloading the bullets he let go of the gun and placed it on the counter. Leaning back up he looked over the hostages and offered them a kind smile. The hostages were kind of scared because they saw the murderous intent fill into his eyes the moment he jumped that counter but otherwise doubted it existed almost immediately by the way he smiled so encouragingly.

Thrasher, at the point, saw the pads and went over the counter and passed the people to go to the women's aisle. When he had curious eyes on him he could see the deflated look on their faces, mainly the women, when they put two and two together. Strangely Thrasher perceptively saw this and let out a light chuckle, he didn't know that it made the women swoon that much more.

"Sorry ladies, my misses is waiting for me." he offered an apologetic smile that had him forgiven instantly.

Just then the little boy whom he made eye contact with came waddling over to him. Thrasher really did like kids and this little rascal was just adorable. Picking him up off the ground he whooshed him high over his head and brought him down just as quickly to kiss him lightly over the brow. The boy squealed and giggled childishly at his hero's actions and offered a big wet kiss of his own, but more prominently on his lips. Thrasher pinked at the instant reaction everyone was giving him and the little helper but nonetheless took it in naturally.

"Couldn't of done it without ya little fella. You're a mini hero man, you helped this big fellow out just as much as Batman - you remember that ok bugger?" Thrasher kindly flicked the boy's forehead and the kid all but smiled in his little angelic manner. He understood everything the older man had said and he couldn't of wanted a better hero than him, because he said he was a hero too!

Thrasher walked over to the kid's mother and handed over the sparkle-eyed kid to the woman, who swooned and eyed him in absolute wonder. Thrasher offered her his thanks for raising such a brave kid and walked over to the shopkeeper. The poor man was in no state of comprehending what was going on - and he was going through a panic attack. But by Thrasher's presence he drew himself up and confidently offered him his gratitude.

Thrasher laid his heavy hand on the man's shoulder, the sudden weight having the man slump suddenly, and leaned over to the guy's face.

"Don't worry about the expenses, the cops are on their way and you're not going to lose your job over something that was out of your league, OK? Stop sweating - the only one's who going to be sweating soon is that idiot over there by the counter." he said good-naturally that it gave the guy more hope than he could physically manage.

"T-thank you - I - we wouldn't have been able to do it without you Mister." replied the nervous man.

Thrasher laughed and told him not to worry. He got out his money and waved the pads in the air and paid for the stuff. Strangely when the shopkeeper saw this his smile dimmed a bit but otherwise he was still really nice to Thrasher.

Thrasher had never seen a camper - much less a homosexual - but he didn't voice out his personal thoughts for the subtle flirting the guy was doing to him. He felt flattered but he knew only Master Scapegrace was the one for him - and honestly he knew the admiration was more for his new body than his personality. At least Scapegrace hadn't changed her actions to him - if anything he drew more attention from the Supreme Killer and that suited him fine.

Bidding farewell to the people he saw the cops coming by, however he was quick in getting away from all the commotion and made his way back to the apartment a block away from where the sudden incident occurred.

Who knew getting a lady's pad could become such a difficult task to handle?

Scapegrace knew he was going to die - but this time more permanently than ever. And there was nothing he could do about the pain, except shift in his red shoddy sheets that saw better days than the red it was forced to see. He pitiably moaned at the sharp pang it sent up his body, but the moan swiftly changed into one of annoyance - he hated the voice that sounded so damn weak - and shut his mouth resolutely in stubborn determination. Turning in his sheets he finally found the perfect position that suddenly made the pain stop. In essence Scapegrace had managed to wound his whole body in the sheets around him, wrapping it over and between his naked legs and modestly covering his bleeding womanhood and naked breasts. It helped him calm down and he breathed easily, though still a little lightly in case the pain ever decided to come back again with a raging vengeance.

The sudden slam of the door opening made him jump, and immediately the pain racked up like a bloody anvil hitting his head - he groaned miserably and twisted his face into the pillow - drowning out the weak whimpers and harsh gasps.

He knew that Thrasher was back, what with the heavy but impatient footsteps clamping up the stairs, and he was ready to give him hell for taking so long. This wasn't even supposed to be happening to him in the first place - what was supposed to happen was that he was the one supposed to take care of his slave - not the other way around.

He groaned. Now he wasn't even making sense anymore.

Master I'm back." claimed Thrasher.

Though he was in pain Scapegrace still managed to snort derisively - even if it was lost in the soft feathery pillow. Flipping his head to Thrasher's stupid face he finally said.

"Idiot - how stupid can you be - of course you're back; you're standing right there so hurry and stop the bleeding!" he gasp at the end of his sentence when he accidentally strained his back - his spine going rigid in a very bad way that left him pinking in absolute rage at the pain.

Throwing a glare at Thrasher he mentally thought about a reversed scenario - but a complaining Thrasher was even more of a migraine than it actually needed to be.

Thrasher's worried expression doesn't change and he comes over to Scapegrace's side and gently picks her up in his arms. He thanked Nye mentally for his body, not like it wasn't the first time he's thanked it mentally, and he carefully righted Scapegrace into a sitting position. He was careful to unravel the sheets around her body and dismissed the stench that her blood made. His touch gentle, but stern, brought her up into his arms, carrying her to the rank stained bathroom they owned. He prompted her against himself and let his free hand turn on the shower, making sure his hold on her was firm but gentle.

Scapegrace knew he had to wash off the blood so he carefully went to the shower and stood there - doing nothing but letting the ice-cold water wash over his heated skin. Thrasher turned it off once he saw the blood drain away, only now leaving trickles of the stuff, and guided her out of the shower and into some fresh clothes that were bought yesterday. He got the pad out and stuck it on the underwear - after ripping the sticky tabs on it - and helped Scapegrace put it on.

"These don't stop the bleeding, but they help keep it together. You'll have to change it three times a day though since it soaks up your blood pretty quickly and you start to smell - but don't worry I was able to get a really good one Master." he said this all the while dressing Scapegrace into the clothes they got.

He didn't receive an answer but he wished he did - he hated getting ignored by her. Even if he was getting told off it still meant that he was worth the effort to talk/scorn to. Thriving on his master's every word was like needing water to survive a desert - he was left parched if not berated for one thing or another!

His master finally spoke. "How long will this last Thrasher?"

Thrasher was thrilled at the sudden question but answered in a kind voice, not over-voicing his excitement. "It'll be either five days to a whole week - depends on your new body Master."

He didn't even want to appear even more weak than he already physically was, but he just couldn't help leaning back on Thrasher's chest and taking in silently what he's said. There wasn't anything he could do about this body and the sooner he accepted that he was going to go through this turmoil every month - the faster he can get a move on in overtaking the world by storm. He couldn't help but feel like he just lost something by accepting this change, even so he wouldn't voice out that run-of-the-mill thought - he didn't want anyone not taking him seriously.

Especially Thrasher.

Thrasher was holding onto a smile that threatened to have his head thwacked by his master, but he was diligent enough to not let it get the best of him, after all he was taking care of his master and the times where he's master would have to rely on him solely was far and few between. But what was unsettling was that Scapegrace wasn't reprimanding him for lying - and Thrasher grew worried enough to look at Scapegrace's face. Finishing clothing master successfully he was standing behind Scapegrace and had to look over her shoulder to peer at her face. He saw her to be deep in thought and the look itself had her furrowing her brows and purse her plump lips slightly. Her lashes hovered under heavy-lidded eyes that beckoned men to come and hither her call, but the frustration that stormed her eyes were what had Thrasher enthralled at the start of their new chapter of life. Thrasher was in love with Scapegrace from the time they spent together as zombies but having Scapegrace turn into a woman just elevated his emotions to be more prominent and noticeable for all the world to see. He knew that Scapegrace had the determination and will of the devil himself and had the lazy but deviating smirk to show for it - transforming into a woman just meant that Scapegrace was vulnerable, is all.

Thrasher knew he was willing to take the woman's body in favour of his current one, it honestly didn't matter with him - as long as he was able to stick by Scapegrace's side than that was more than fine with him. But that didn't happen and some decisions aren't going to go through, still this only meant that Thrasher's responsibilities had just expanded.

He was going to protect Scapegrace from all that wanted to do her wrong. That only meant that he was going to have to protect her from the men out to deflower her.

He was going to make sure to have her safe from all the possible injuries in the future.

He was going to make sure she was going to be happy. Whatever that may entail.

In truth nothing did significantly change for Thrasher's mind; he was still in love with his master and he was still a slave.

When Scapegrace finally noticed that he was dressed and Thrasher's breathing was tickling his ears he looked up to see what the imbecile was doing - a scowl ready on his face.

He didn't realize how close they were but it was already too late. Their lips touched and their reactions slowed to a standstill. Thrasher didn't even know what the hell happened - one moment he was staring into eyes of beauty then the next thing he knows he's pecking his secret lover.

The air stilled for only a mere second thought. The reality of the situation didn't start kicking in until Thrasher saw Scapegrace's hair start floating up in around her face. Her brilliant eyes flashes up brightly and soon her face follows. He can feel her lips trembling in mortification as her blood rushes to her face in the most provocative way Thrasher has ever had to endure. Her brows soon completes the adorable look by scrunching up in absolute mortification and she pulls back, screaming, and smashes her fist against Thrasher's face.

He cries instantly. "Master!"

Scapegrace doesn't even answer back - he was too busy wiping his mouth like he had just tasted bugs and worms all into one and not hot, supple lips that caressed gently against his own. That thought alone had him wiping his mouth harder.

He whipped his entire body to Thrasher and glared menacingly - ignoring the pink in his cheek he says. "Mention this to anyone and I will not hesitate to kill you, is that clear?"

Thrasher, despite the light punch and glare smiled in relief. "Crystal, master." he replied dreamily.

Scapegrace grew disgruntled by Thrasher's behaviour but didn't call him out on it and just went away from Thrasher to get some breakfast.

So I only added in the green eyes, the usual way Scapegrace treats Thrasher but the next chappy will entail some of most of what I read of Dead Men, which currently I am re-reading the Tavern scene where Thrasher is constipated :3 I love it so far, it's so cool and awesome, and by that I mean the book and not Thrasher's constipation because that would be disgusting even if it is mildly funny.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was a morning Scapegrace wished never came to be. Taking it out on Thrasher seemed to be the reasonable thing to do and so he did, it just wasn't in Thrasher's mindset – as of yet anyway – that things were going to get harder for him to NOT picture, imagine, fantasise Master Scapegrace that way. Especially not when it came to the conversation itself and the reason why Scapegrace found it absolutely reasonable to converse with a red-blooded man he _**owned. **_

Clearly Thrasher isn't anything more than what Scapegrace thought him to be; a slave.

"Thrasher, why the hell do I have to wear underwear? And who the hell invented bras?" she says while lounging around on a beat down sofa, the cushion barely keeping her aloft as she sat there tenderly – finding a comfortable position, maintaining it and making absolute sure she wasn't losing her comfort zone anytime soon.

Too bad Thrasher's comfort zone went out the window.

"W-what Master Scapegrace?" he asked after sometime. His eyes nearly popped out of its sockets and he nearly cut his finger when the butcher knife snapped the fish's head right off its body.

The aftermath being a bloody mess that had Scapegrace nearly losing her nerve when Thrasher turned around from where he stood in the small kitchenette; blood splattered all over his face like he was done butchering a body and spilt guts were splattered over his shirt. The fact that he looked scared shitless wasn't helping matters at all in Scapegrace's case.

I mean to her it looked like she was looking at a psychotic murderer about to rip into her _already _bleeding guts.

So please excuse her for getting the nearest thing to her and throwing at Thrasher's head. The thing she picked up was a lamp and the glass shattered against his head upon impact – leaving him even bloodier before as Scapegrace screamed the life out of her lungs.

"What the hell is wrong with you Thrasher?! Do you want to kill me or what?" she cried out as she scampered behind the sofa, barely wedging herself between that and the broken window sill behind her.

Thrasher nearly bonked out by the impact of the lampshade shattering into pieces but the moment that statement left her strawberry, quivering and heart-shaped lips he dropped everything and came at her with the same, frantic and scared look on his face. As if something precious was getting yanked out of his place (his fast-paced heart) and there was nothing he could do about it.

Scapegrace peeked over the sofa, after ducking under its cover when she said her piece, and screamed in surprise as she sees Thrasher right in her face, and a moment later, pulling her up and into his tight embrace.

Hugging her to him tightly Thrasher could still see the heightened fear Master Scapegrace drew out of her due to her period. He _knew_ she was going to fall prey to the affects her menstrual cycle was going to do to her but he didn't expect it to come out in such a way!

He didn't want her to be afraid of him!

Anything, anything but that!

"O-oi! Thr-mmph! Mmph!" Scapegrace started but Thrasher pulls her into his chest by the head and refuses to let her go until he's said his piece.

Maybe he was overreacting but he'd be damned if he were to be the one responsible for putting that feared expression on her, he never wanted to be the cause for such disparity.

"I'm sorry Master. I'm sorry Master, I'm sorry – please don't be afraid of me. Hate me, despise but don't ever feel afraid of me Master." He pleaded brokenly.

Seeing a grown man cry was something no person should ever see – it's why Thrasher held onto Scapegrace close to his heart.

But to Scapegrace it was more of the matter of breathing that he was more worried about. Fighting valiantly against the warmth that chest was bringing him was more of a hard job than anything he has had to deal with – especially when it was coming from Thrasher his slave.

One punch did it though; it was more due to the pent up magical release his body conjured up right then and there. The blast came out in a blue fireball out of his palm and blew right into his body. A moment later Thrasher felt his heart thump once – reverberating throughout his entire body.

His eyes widen and a silent scream escapes him as he's suddenly swept off his feet and is crashing over the chairs and lands over the kitchenette table, hitting his head on the stove edge as his body slumps forward.

Scapegrace took one look at his hand and dashed out to Thrasher's side.

"Thrasher! Thrasher you idiot! Wake up!" He was panicking as he knelt by his side and felt his head.

The moment he felt more blood coming out of his wounds Scapegrace felt his gut wrench open and looked down to see if it really did.

Obviously no but it might as well - with how stupid he was reacting over him and his sudden fear conjuring out of nowhere, he found himself the cause of his downfall and might as well be the one being feared here than fearful.

Without even thinking Scapegrace snapped his fingers and a blue flame lit up on his index finger. Making a circle with the fire-lit finger he concentrated on the one person able to help with this emergency.

Clarabelle came up immediately in the blue flame's flickering light. It seemed like she could see the flame itself and she was perplexed as to what it was – that is, until she saw who it reflected through the flames' lighting. The next instant she's in the small apartment with Scapegrace who is crying out for her to help the unconscious Thrasher. The whole image forces Clarabelle to move into action – the sensation familiar to when she's usually working with the doctor.

When Thrasher wakes up he groans a little and feels his head. There's a bandage tightly bound on his entire head and his temples are throbbing by the tight contraption. Nonetheless he figured he was seriously wounded by the way he was feeling so of course it was all necessary for him to recover.

"Thrasher? Are you awake?" sweet honey, nectar that should have sound demanded was – to his ears – pathetic.

Alarm bells went up and over his head like a blaring siren and it had him sitting up immediately in haste to see what was wrong with Master Scapegrace.

"Master! What's wrong?" he demanded. He reached over to her slumped form where she laid herself on the bed, the bed where he was residing himself.

She glared pathetically at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears and a scowl so set on being menacing ended up looking pitifully.

"You're what's wrong you wreck! You completely fell unconscious and wouldn't wake up! No matter how hard I hit you! And- and," at this she sniffed pathetically, and her tears fell down her face. Thrasher's heart thumped one slow second at a time.

Whoever said women crying were beautiful were absolutely wrong. There wasn't anything beautiful in seeing the one you love be in anguish over you. There isn't anything to feel good about it – what's so good about being the cause of pushing someone over a bridge and seeing them cry out in fear of you? There is nothing beautiful about it – so what's makes being the reason for them to cry because they fear for you any different?

Nothing, there is nothing – they both leave you shit and Thrasher felt like the worst of the worst – there was nothing to liken how his heart felt at this moment.

Shit was a pretty normalizing way to put things into perspective but it sounded fitting to how he felt right now.

Taking hold of Scapegrace's grace Thrasher gently lifted the poor form of Scapegrace and settled her into his arms once more, careful to cradle her while avoiding the sore spots on his stomach. She didn't protest as she laid her head against his chest and clutched at his shirt through her tears. Thrasher said nothing as he closed his eyes and laid his chin on top of her soft hair. The silence continued until both Thrasher and Scapegrace fell asleep.

When Clarabelle came back from the itinerary room to check up on Thrasher's condition, what she saw made her blink twice. Then she smiled cutely and rushed back to get her camera out of her back. The Doctor wasn't in at the moment so she had the home-made clinic all to herself the whole day, and she wasn't going to be bored any time soon.

Pulling back the curtains she stood in front of the sleeping pair and started clicking away.

"I wonder how much these would sell?" she said to no one.

Either that or she could use it for reference to her Fanfiction collection that she does on the side. She was rather popular on those sites really and having some money wouldn't hurt a fly. Giggling again she takes a couple more pictures of the pair and reminds herself to send one to Skulduggery when she'd on the computer – he'd be sure not to appreciate it and that was all the more reason to send it off to him.

K.A: Hope you guys like this. I'm keeping it real fluffy and nice for all you Shippers out there – that and I've come to realise that keeping it light is my cup of tea for this couple at the moment.


End file.
